


For Ever and Always

by SkyTintedWater



Category: Coraline - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Changelings, Child Abuse, Crueltide, Darkfic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 07:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16403696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyTintedWater/pseuds/SkyTintedWater
Summary: She just wanted to love, and be loved in return. And if she couldn’t find that love, she’dtakeit.





	For Ever and Always

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriamKenneath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/gifts).



> _the backstory … of The Other Mother_  
>  Mmm, backstory.

I was abandoned by my parents as a child. Like the cuckoo in the nest I was unceremoniously shoved into an infant’s cradle while they took _her_ , blue-eyed and pink-cheeked, to my old bed. I was young too, by fae standards — a mere sixty years old. 

My old parents forgot about me as soon as their backs were turned. I could see it in their eyes, reflected back at me from the mirror on the wall. When they looked at their new child their eyes glowed with happiness, something I’d never seen before. 

And never would again. 

My new parents hated me. Of course they did. They knew stories about our kind, stories that said if you treated the ‘changeling’ baby with cruelty it would run away and the true child would return. Nonsense, of course — my parents would never let that child go. It didn’t stop the humans from throwing rocks at me, burning me in their oven and throwing me on the refuse heap beside the woods. 

It didn’t bring their beloved daughter back, but it didn’t kill me either. Each new cruelty added thickness to my skin and strength to my bones. After the third time I dragged my still smouldering form from the rubbish heap and into the nearby woods. I was there for days, drinking morning dew and eating any insects that got too close as I listened to the increasingly desperate cries of the couple looking for their daughter. If they’d just been satisfied with me — if they’d only _loved_ me, they wouldn’t be suffering now. 

I grew weary of their cries and left, wandering the woods and valleys of the human world. It was strange and bland, so unlike my old home. I missed the Fae lands every day, and my longing for _home_ grew with every breath. So too grew in me a hunger I could not name. It wasn’t food — I had all the insects I could eat. It wasn’t rain, it wasn’t sunshine, it wasn’t shelter. I took what I wanted, when I wanted. I should have coveted nothing, but the nameless desire grew and grew, and with it my longing for home grew and grew and soon I feared I would be driven mad. 

And then I saw them. The fae. The _other_ fae, my kin, my people. There were three of them leading a human male. He was bewitched, drool leaking from the side of his mouth as he followed them, harp clutched loosely to his chest. 

I followed them, slipping from tree to tree as they laughed and danced their way home, pulling the human helplessly along. Every now and then he’d lift his harp and half-heartedly pluck a few notes and the fae would scream in ecstasy.

One by one they danced around a particular tree before disappearing into it. I didn’t recognise it but I felt a pull — not to the tree itself but to the lands beyond. I waited until I was sure they’d gone before I followed. 

It wasn’t easy — the tree resisted me at first. But nothing would stop me from going home. In frustration I imagined my fingernails becoming claws, long and strong and wickedly sharp. With a cry I slashed at the entrance, and slashed and slashed again until the tree admitted me to my proper home. 

I kept the claws. They made me feel powerful. 

I wandered the fae lands for what seemed like ages. Everything shifted before me, and when I got annoyed I ripped my way through again. Soon both my hands were clawed, and weaker fae ran when they saw me. No matter. They weren’t who I wanted to see.

And then finally, _finally,_ I had come home. 

It looked different but it smelled the same, like sunshine and happiness with just a hint of despair. Just the way Mother wanted it. 

I could hear laughter coming from behind the house and I ran there, all smiles and forgiveness, for now that I was home, everything would be okay. 

My parents never saw me. But I saw them with their new _daughter,_ their new _plaything._ My father cuddled her like he never cuddled me. My mother gave her treats like she never gave me. 

It had never occurred to me that they wouldn’t want me back. 

It all boiled out of me then: rage, trauma, the injustice of it all. It was all-encompassing, too overwhelming for the fae brain to comprehend. It was supposed to be sound but it became a storm, black with rage, stabbing vengeful lightning bolts at my parents. 

They ran inside, their new daughter held safely between them. I heard the bolt slide home and laughed. 

As if such a flimsy thing would stop me now. 

My storm blocked out the sun but I could see perfectly, aided by the lightning. My parents ran for the cellar door and I raised my hands. A wind blew through the house, ripping the girl from their arms and throwing them into the basement. I locked them in myself, but I didn’t have time to listen to them get weaker and weaker.

No, I had other business to attend to. 

The girl was where she’d been thrown, huddled against the wall, making herself into the smallest possible ball, hiding her face as if that would make her invisible to me. For a moment I saw myself in her, frightened and weak with no idea what she’d done to deserve this. It was only a moment, long enough to stay my hand. The fault lay with my parents, not with this beautiful child. And she _was_ beautiful, with large eyes and thickly curled hair. I could see then why my parents had been drawn to her. 

I disguised my claws as I knelt in front of her. ‘Hello. Are you frightened?’

She nodded and I smiled at her. ‘You don’t have to be afraid any more. I’m your mother now.’

‘But I already have a mother,’ she said, sniffling.

‘I’m your Other Mother, silly.’ I held out my hand and she took it. Her hand was so warm against mine. 

We’d almost left the house when I remembered something. Instructing her to stay put, I ran upstairs to my childhood bedroom. It hurt a little to see the signs that someone else had been there but I ignored those feelings. I was a Mother now and it was time to put away such silly hurts. 

At the back of my old closet were a pair of flimsy pixie wings. I’d torn them from the back of a pixie child because they were beautiful and I wanted to wear them. 

They’d suit the girl much better.

We went into the woods before I attached them to her. 

‘These are a gift,’ I said as she flapped them experimentally, trying them out. ‘I hope you like them.’

‘Thank you, Other Mother,’ she said. She flapped a little harder and rose a few inches from the ground. I saw her big, trusting eyes dart towards the horizon. 

Before she could flap them again I reached out and pulled her down to the ground. ‘Don’t fly away now!’ I warned her. ‘You don’t want to get hurt, do you?’

‘No, Other Mother.’

I tell her all the things I’ll give her, the beautiful house we’ll live in, the pets I’ll create for her to play with. And as I watch her face change I realise this is the first time in my life I have ever been really, truly happy. 

And we’ll stay that way … as long as she continues to be a good daughter. 

All I need to do is to stop her from looking at the horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about changelings, and about how everyone always thinks about the human child and not the fairy one. How would they feel, being abandoned for a prettier child?


End file.
